Kindness 101
Sherwood Gardens, a lovely community garden in a well-to-do neighborhood of Guilford, is a treasure – a beautiful oasis in the city of Baltimore, and a place where special memories are created. Regardless of the season, I visit often, but more so during the spring and summer months because of the warmer temperatures, and the beautiful flower beds.
Each year I look forward to the tulips. It’s become a tradition for many to visit in the spring because the tulips provide the perfect backdrop for photos with family and friends. Because of the pandemic, more and more people are using the gardens for socializing – families for picnics, friends for book clubs, students for studying, and people like me, who use it for meditation and relaxation, especially during the morning when there are fewer people.
I love to promote the garden as a resource, but these days I do it less and less because too many have taken advantage of a good thing. In recent years, visitors to the garden often leave their trash behind and/or create too much noise pollution (leave your speakers and boomboxes at home), while others think it’s their personal greenhouse, cutting flowers, only to have the audacity to create bouquets in front of visitors. Let me not forget the self-absorbed, who like to walk into flower beds and kneel to take the perfect photo. I’ve watched too many people fall over, squashing tulips, ruining the experience for the next person. What were you thinking? More specifically, why weren’t you thinking?
This is the second tulip season of the pandemic and I am witnessing too many people unwilling to follow the rules of social distancing. It seems mask wearing is passé. One should never begin a sentence with look, but to them I say, "Look, I feel your pain." The pandemic has me exhausted too, and like you, I want to go back to the way it was, but until it does, follow the fucking rules. We are all in this together, and we have to look out for each other. So please, be kind… create harmony, and leave Sherwood Gardens the way you found it, beautiful and pristine, and with the tulips intact. (I love shared experiences, but only when people do the right thing.)
On a much sadder note, the tulips this year are not as grand as they usually are, and I contribute much of this to the pandemic. I am used to seeing lush flower beds, but many are sparse. Typically, fresh tulips are planted in the fall, but that didn’t happen this past year – again, due to the pandemic.
Typically, the public is invited to a tulip dig in late spring, where anyone can dig up the old bulbs, which are for sale at a nominal price. However, the need for social distancing caused the dig to be cancelled, so the old bulbs remained. (For those who don’t know, tulips are perennial flowers. This means that a tulip should be expected to return and bloom year after year. But for all intents and purposes this isn't always the case. Most tulip-lovers content themselves with treating it as an annual, re-planting new bulbs each fall. This is Sherwood’s mantra.)
Despite the occasional annoying person (people) and the lackluster tulips, I still found my joy in this special place. As I was taking photos, this woman (70-ish and who was practicing the rules of social distancing and mask wearing ) said to me, "They aren’t as lovely this year. It’s more than likely because of the pandemic." I agreed with her. From there a conversation was born. We talked for an hour.
Before our conversation ended, she said, "I am sorry. I know you wanted to take photos, and here I am talking your ear off. I really am sorry. I come here every year, but this year was different because I am lonely. I just didn’t want to be lonely anymore. There is lots of paranoia with the pandemic and I haven’t seen many of my friends and family. I live alone."
I wasn’t sure what to say because my heart was heavy. Her vulnerability was refreshing. I said, "I hope I made you feel less lonely," and she said, "You did. You really did." (And that, my friends, is kindness 101.)
One time or another, I believe we’ve all felt loneliness during this pandemic – for some it’s been perpetual, chronic. The best way to fight the latter is with kindness. There is no time like the present to share a little act of kindness with your fellow travelers. In case you haven’t heard, vulnerability can be a strength, too. – paerki
